Chapter 25: Emergency Quest II

Chapter 25: Emergency Quest II The camera feed pulled back from Village B12, revealing the full chaos erupting at its gates. No longer was it just a quiet novice village. It had transformed into a war camp. Guild banners whipped in the wind—Emerald Claw, Violet Serpents, Dragonbone Circle—some of the most infamous names in both the game and real-world gaming circles. Known streamers, retired military tacticians, and wealthy players decked out in high-tier custom armor had all descended here, drawn by one overwhelming incentive: The Hidden Class unlocked by the Monster Tide event. They weren’t here to help. They were here to claim. A Hidden Class was a prize that could reshape a build, form the core of an empire, and even dictate the course of future wars. Amid the sea of voices—players shouting orders, casting buffs, and scrambling to form half-organized attack teams—one figure stood unnoticed. No guild crest marked his armor. There was no glow of rare enchantments around him. His sword remained at his side. He looked like just another face in the ocean of beginners—one more adventurer in basic gear, swept up in the frenzy. Of course, that figure... was me. *** Gods, this was perfect. I couldn’t help but grin as I watched the chaos unfold in front of me. It was just as wild as I’d expected—an army of overconfident noobs running around with oversized weapons and even bigger egos. Some had declared themselves "generals," barking out commands and claiming they’d lead their groups to victory. Yeah. Good luck with that. I simply slid into one of the warrior teams, hood drawn up, face down, silent. They didn’t know me. I didn’t care to know them. My objective was simple: Sneak into the mess, stay under the radar, and snipe the boss kill with magic. By slipping into a front-line warrior group, I’d be perfectly positioned. If I struck first, the mage parties would take the blame, not me. Smart, right? As for Puddle—he was safely tucked away in my Tamer space. I wasn’t about to risk him out in the open. Among all the beginner pets—boars, wolves, birds—a slime wouldn’t turn heads. Unless... Someone had a halfway decent Appraisal skill. If even one player scanned Puddle too thoroughly, they’d immediately see: [Rare – Ancient Creature: Black King of White Rivers] And if that got out? Forget monsters. Players would come for my head. Everyone knew the stories. Even the in-game lore books in the starter cities hinted at Ancient Creatures—entities of immense power, capable of tipping battles and commanding the fate of entire wars. Discovering one in a beginner zone? Unthinkable. Unbelievable. And absolutely worth killing someone over. So yeah, for now, Puddle stayed hidden. Then a booming voice cut through the noise from up ahead. "Alright, listen up!" A man strode forward like he owned the entire forest. His armor glinted in the sunlight—silver and gold, engraved with glowing runes and dotted with precious stones. A full Epic-tier set. Clearly purchased, not earned. And everyone knew it. "I’ll be leading this squad," he declared, slamming his jewel-crusted sword into the dirt. "Name’s Moneyking!" I looked up at his nameplate: [Moneyking] – Level 10 – Class: None Yep. That tracked. Of course he didn’t have a class yet. Nobody did. Not unless they’d already made it out of the Novice Zone. Well—except me. Me, with my Ancient Tamer class, hiding behind a humble cloak, a smirk, and a bubble of rare, world-changing power disguised as a slime. They had to grind and pray. I just bent the rules. Still, I had to admit—Moneyking had his uses. Not because he was talented. Not because he was smart. But because people looked at him, not me. The crowd around him buzzed with attention and admiration. Some even clapped or shouted support. "Let’s go, Moneyking!" "Lead us to that Hidden Class!" "Follow his lead!" It was the kind of frenzy only a rich player with shiny toys could ignite. Epic armor at Level 10? That was like showing up to a pebble fight with a siege weapon. But nobody pointed out the obvious: He had no class. No experience. Just money and gear. And he wasn’t alone. Across the staging area, other squads were assembling—each led by someone just like him: Guild-favored elites. Trust-fund prodigies. Streamers backed by corporate sponsors. All Level 10. All brand new like the rest of us. Each one had their own squad of fifty players, armed to the teeth, well-coordinated, and laser-focused on one prize: The Hidden Class drop. No one openly admitted it, but everyone knew the truth. They weren’t here for honor, friendship, or a good story. They were here because the system broadcast said something incredible: A Level 50 Field Boss had appeared... in a Novice Zone. And more importantly? That boss had a chance to drop a Hidden Class. It didn’t say guaranteed, just possible. But that was more than enough. Because a Hidden Class wasn’t just a cool title. It was power. While normal classes gave you a decent build, reliable growth, and predictable skills, Hidden Classes? They changed everything. Unique skill trees. Never-before-seen abilities. Combat mechanics no one could counter. Unless someone else got the same Hidden Class—or some idiot leaked their ability list online just to chase clout—players couldn’t guess what you were capable of. And in PvP? Unpredictability is king. Eventually, sure, those advantages would fade. Eventually, people would learn the mechanics, test counters, and datamine builds. But not now. Not this early. Right now, Hidden Classes were pure, undisputed cheat codes. That’s why the field was packed. That’s why the race was on. Even though the system never promised a class would drop... just the possibility had triggered a storm. And I? I was already in position. Let them fight. Let them charge. Let them bleed. And then—when the moment’s right? I’ll take everything. So, for now, I am simply waiting while looking at the whales(rich Players) who are now leading the groups and strategizing. ’Damm, this Strategy might work’ I couldn’t help but thought as they spoke of the strategy, it was really an good strategy after all.